


cunning genius

by inquietrooms



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Trans Jack Pattillo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 02:14:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquietrooms/pseuds/inquietrooms
Summary: After Gavin gets separated from the crew on a heist, he finds himself injured and alone. The other four quickly jump into action in order to save their counterpart from getting into trouble- or rather, anymore trouble.





	cunning genius

_— and he jumps._

Gunfire ceases as a high-pitched _something_ tears through his throat as he descends, muffled by a closed mouth, body ungracefully fumbling through the crisp, evening air. His limbs try to get some sort of traction, to make sure he stayed in a perfect position, but it felt absolutely pointless. A second before he hits the water’s unforgiving surface, he slams his eyes shut. Time seems to slow down as soon as he’s underwater. Boy swims to the surface, grabbing a large gulp of salty air — (“Do you see him?”) — before diving deep and covering as much area as he can. Eyes blink open and he’s able to spot the warbled view of red and blue lights, still frighteningly clear as he makes his escape.

The longer he swims, the more the adrenaline in his body filters through his system and dies down in intensity. An ever-constant ache thrums in his bones as he peeks his head up to spot how far he is from the shore, taking a quick breath, which he soon learns is a horrible idea when a spotlight from a helicopter passes right over him and doing essentially a double take. _If only he hadn’t lingered._ A bullet zips right by him as he’s getting ready to dive back down, along with a second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh — and then he runs out of luck.

* * *

“What the fuck do you mean you got separated?”

The four are piling into a car right after losing their own respective pursuers, getting ready to find their sixth member. They have no time to waste. As soon as they heard the perilous condition Gavin had been left in, they knew how important every second was from their own individual experience. Heists almost never go as planned, but that wouldn’t stop Geoff from getting frustrated each time some sort of surprise sprung out at them. For fuck’s sake, this was their job- their livelihood- and the margin for error shouldn’t be as large as it is. In his defense, the majority of his anger comes from worry and concern for the safety of his crew, because according to Michael’s retelling of events, Gavin ended up cornered, alone, in the middle of a bridge.

“All the techy shit was taking longer than planned and we heard the sirens, so I told him I was going to go downstairs and cover his ass while he finished up since he refused to leave until it was done, but there were- there were too many, and I yelled to him to meet me at the bridge, but it all went to shit. I think he escaped through a fire escape and I was almost at the bridge when I got cut off.” Michael looks angry now, whether it’s at himself, Gavin, the police, or the situation in general is unknown. HIs tone is gravelly, words snarled out from between curled lips.

“You told me you had it handled! You should’ve left!”

“You know Gav when he gets all wrapped up in his computer shit! He was convinced he could get it done in time!”  
“We go in teams so when things like that happen, you can drag his dumbass out of there!”

Jack calmly intervenes, getting the conversation back on track. “Did you see him after he jumped?” Geoff and Michael take a moment of staring each other down before the latter turns his attention to Jack and responds.

“Fuck, no, but that’s good. If I couldn’t see him, maybe they couldn’t either. He wasn’t fucking stealthy about it, though, screaming his ass off the whole way down. There were no other alternatives. I was too far away, far too outnumbered, and they had just opened fire on him.”

“Opened fire?” Jack piped up, her eyes now widening slightly. “Was he shot?”

“I don’t know! I don’t fucking know! He was far away, okay?” With tension so high, no one’s surprised by Michael’s outburst. “Jack, what the fuck, why are you slowing down?”

“Because we can’t go in guns blazing. We can’t risk-” Ryan cuts off the mild-mannered woman; the stress of one of their own being in danger has them all acting a bit irrationally, but over the years, Jack has gained the learned ability to stay level-headed when it’s needed most.

“If we’re going in as a distraction, guns blazing would be the best idea!”

“But-”

 _“Shut up!”_ Geoff slams his hands on the dashboard as he yells and everyone quiets down. Nothing is heard in the vehicle except raspy breathing and the background noise of a helicopter flying overhead. “Jack and I will search for Gavin, find him, extract him from whatever stupid situation he got his ass stuck into. Michael, Ryan- you two have the responsibility of guns blazing, but don’t be fucking idiots, alright? Just pick them off, get their attention, keep them away from us. Got it?” Everyone nods. “Jack, stop here. You and I will get out and try to get under the bridge. Maybe we can steal a police boat. We’ll see what it looks like when we get out there.” A brief pause as the four look over each other. “Let’s go get our British idiot.”

* * *

Michael watches Jack and Geoff bolt towards their planned destination as he climbs in the passenger's seat, cocking his gun as he slightly hangs out the window to get a better view. “He said to just pick them off, but..” A mischievous smile creeps across the man’s face, and he could see Ryan processing his choices in the body language. One hand tightening around the steering wheel, another tightening around a gun.

Ryan cocks his own gun, steadying it out the open window. “Those fuckers are going down.” Decision made. The car peels out from behind their corner, sharply turning and taking its first casualty within a few seconds as a body slams into the front of the car.

Michael whoops as he wildly fires into the crowd. “No one messes with the Fake AH Crew, bitches!” He cackles as he ducks into the car to avoid an onslaught of oncoming bullets, only his hand pointed out to blindly shoot, because blindly shooting is better than not shooting at all. The rumble and blast of an explosion is heard. There’s barely time to react before a second explosion is heard and then a third. Michael’s face lights up with glee as he realizes that he caused a chain reaction of explosions down the line of police cars, though four still remain and the few remaining officers are beginning to pile in and make chase.

“I’m going to start driving away- drawing them out so Geoff and Jack can get a better chance at a safe search!”

“Just fucking do it!” The car skids and does a complete one-eighty. “Step on it, man! Step on it!”

“What do think I’m doing? Sucking my own dick?” Words come out in a snarl, Ryan’s gun thrown uselessly in the backseat after his gun makes a pathetic _click_ when he tries to shoot.

“We have more ammo if you need it!” Michael stays low as he fires, once again blindly, back at the now pursuing police officers. At a particularly rough turn, his shoulder slams into the car door. “What the fuck, man! Be careful!”

“Shut up and keep shooting!” Michael grabs more ammo from the glove compartment, reloading, unloading the bullets into the targets behind them, beside them, wherever the police cars presented themselves, and then repeat. The first of the four cars go when a bullet crashes through the windscreen and injures the driver, distracting him enough so that he crashes head first into a civilian’s car. The second of the four is annoyingly persistent, ramming into the bumper of Ryan and Michael’s vehicle, causing a frustrating lack of control when he does. 

Michael climbs in the backseat and focuses in sights on the driver, firing shots the second he bumps them again. Due to their close quarters, it makes the shot easier, and the car swerves off the road. “Two more!” He situates himself in the backseat, aiming up his next shot, pulling the trigger when his gun clicks, signalling it’s in need of more ammo. He turns around, squinting at the glove compartment- from what he can see, nothing. “What the fuck, what the actual fuck. How the fuck are we out of ammo? How do we keep running out of fucking ammo?”

“Maybe because we’ve already spent most of our ammo getting the police off our asses the first time- but you sure you’re out?” He turns left, narrowly missing a fire hydrant. Ryan spares a glance towards the compartment and doesn’t say anything. Michael assumes this confirms his declaration.

“Yes! Yes, I’m fucking out- again, and there’s still two Goddamn police cars after us!” He digs around in the backseat for something he could use before calling up to the other. “Do you have any grenades on you?”

“Uh, yeah! One! Here!” Michael rights himself and twists, sticking low, impatiently waiting for Ryan to pass it to him. Fingers curl around the grenade placed in his palm.

When he turns around, his free hand grips on the headrest of the seat as they make a turn, body swaying before straightening out again. He waits for the two cruisers to round the corner and straighten out themselves before pulling the pin and throwing. It rolls perfectly into the road and sets off under one of the cars, sending it into the air and spinning, the fourth car scarcely avoiding its demise. “We’re out of ammo and,” he climbs back to the front seat, “we still have one car left!” 

Ryan nods. “Okay, hold on.” Michael looks at him with a hint of uncertainty but knows better than to doubt him in a time like this, because right now the person driving the car isn’t Ryan, it’s the Vagabond, a man that kills just to kill and sees a gun as a luxury. If he’s convinced of whatever farfetched plan is in his mind, then there’s no turning back. It’s at this point that the car begins to slow down, coming to a complete stop at a four way intersection.

Michael glances up at the traffic lights as it flashes from yellow to red. “Your plan was to obey fucking traffic laws?” Ryan doesn’t say a word, casually resting his arm in the open window as casual as if he’s been pulled over for speeding, watching the reflection of the lights in the side mirror get closer and closer until they pull to a stop and a single officer exits, gun pointed towards them.

“Get out with your hands up!”

“Stay inside.”

“Of course I’m going to stay inside, Ryan. We don’t have-” He’s cut off as Ryan calmly steps out of the vehicle, hands held submissively above his head. Even though his mask covers his face, Michael is sure there’s a grin lighting up his expression right now. “Oh, you piece of shit-” He starts climbing out, attempting to be stealthy as his fingers wrap around the door handle, back facing the Vagabond, when he hears a quiet chuckle, the sound of shuffling, a gunshot, another shuffle, a thud, and then silence. Body whips around to find Ryan getting back in the driver’s seat. “What the fuck, dude?”

As if it was obvious, he maneuvers his sleeve to expose a blade pressed flat against his skin. “Throwing knives hidden in my jacket. We’ll probably want to grab their guns real quick.”

“When did you-” The absurdity of the situation hits him and a laugh bubbles up in his chest. “Never fucking mind.”

* * *

“Not as subtle as I had in mind, but.. it’s Ryan and Michael.” Jack mumbles as they sneak down the stairs to get under the bridge, eyes scanning the water.

“It worked, and they didn’t get their dumbasses killed. Do you see a boat we can hijack?” Geoff stops in his tracks, causing Jeff to almost run straight into his back. “Aw, shit.” The beam of a flashlight sweeps through the air in front of him.

“Hello? Is someone there?” The officer calls out. The two look over the shore. There are about four officers spread out on this side of the shore and, from what they could see, seven or eight on the shore across the river. Apparently the Los Santos police department isn’t entirely inept; they’re smart enough to keep a group of officers at the river, looking for the original target. The Fake AH Crew tends to rely on the stupidity of the department a little more often than they should, and while maybe it worked in earlier years, they’ve grown to learn. 

“If they’re still looking, they haven’t found Gav.” Jack whispers. “I don’t see a boat, though-”

“I said: Is someone there? I’m assuming the answer is ‘yes’! I can hear you!”

“Aw, fuck off!” Geoff jumps out, spraying bullets wildly. Jack, at this point, has no choice but to comply, using much more precise shots, having to hold back a cringe whenever the kingpin would fling bullets without much thought, because there was the background worry of _what if a stray bullet hits a hiding Gavin?_ Geoff downs one with a bullet to the leg and another with a bullet to the chest, Jack following it up with two finishing shots to the head. “Backup’s coming!” Geoff charges an officer, hitting him in the temple with the butt of his gun right as Jack shoots an officer getting ready to take a shot at Geoff from the back. 

Right as their side of the beach is cleared, two boats filled with seven more officers in total draw closer. “Try to get them before they reach land! You get left; I’ll get right!” Jack nods and readys his aim and begins firing. Much like before, he takes a more precise approach while Geoff takes a more chaotic approach. The driver to Geoff’s boat is hit in the chest and knocked overboard, sending the boat turning, the others scrambling for the wheel. In the scramble, the boat is turned into the second and hits with enough speed at the right angle to gain air causing the other three to bail. Two from Jack’s boat are clipped by the airborne boat and the remaining are picked off by the crew, the boat skidding to an ungraceful stop about a foot beside them.

“Well, we got our boat.”

“As well as a chopper.” Geoff adds. They look towards the sky, hurriedly taking cover behind the boat as a helicopter flies into view. Bullets ran down around them and they find themselves quickly outgunned. The bullets cease as ropes descend from the chopper and drop four more men onto the sandy beach, the two swearing under their breaths. “How much ammo do you have left?”

“Enough. You?”

Geoff observes the inside of the boat to find a rocket launcher sitting askew on the floor, no doubt knocked from its original place during the rough beaching. “Plenty.” He trades out his weapon for one of the guns belonging to the officers. “Because it’s our lucky fucking day. Guess who just spotted exactly what might come in handy in a time like this?”

* * *

Eyes heavy and half-lidded, he’s jolted back to consciousness when gunfire is set off on the bridge above him. He’s nestled tightly under a flipped, abandoned canoe-like boat that he was able to drag himself to in some brush before anyone got there in search for him. His breathing is hallowed out, the pressure he’s applying to the gunshot wound decreasing whenever he begins to doze off or increasing whenever he comes to, such as now.

He hears commotion on the bridge above him along with the men on his beach mumbling and speaking to each other, conversing about what they should do next, before they decide to stay and keep looking for where Gavin had gone, communicating that to the opposite side. His face scrunches up in frustration, teeth gritting as tears well. _Fuck._ He’s not scared, but he’s in pain. He’s uncomfortable. He’s wet. He’s cold. He just wants to get out from under this rotting canoe and go back to the penthouse and have Jack’s gentle hands bandage him up and take a hot shower. He wants to sleep.

And he knows that will come, because who else would be shooting up the officers on the bridge and yelling about it other than his crew? They’re coming for him. He holds his breath as light slits through the crack between the sand and edge of the boat. The light gets a bit stronger as footsteps grow closer and his heart rate quickens, legs stretching slightly as if reminding his body that they still work. Right as a he spots fingers curling around the canoe to lift it, more gunshots tear through the night. Muscles begin to relax, but the man is still persistent with flipping the canoe. _Bollocks._

Gavin springs up to his feet, doing his best to ignore the dizzying, swaying effect it has on him as he takes his bloodied hand away from the wound and puts it on the officer’s mouth. The officer begins struggling, yelling against his palm, uncoordinated hands reaching for his gun. Moving his other hand away from the other’s mouth for a split second, he moves it to the back of his head and pushes it down as he lifts his knee up, feeling a crunch as he nails him right on the nose. The other stumbles, stunned. A voice calls from a distance away. “Where’s Anderson?” Gavin takes this as his opportunity to take the gun, painfully aware of how close the other officers still are, and hits his target roughly on the back of the head. “Anderson?” The body sways and then drops.

Words are muffled behind closed teeth. “You just had to go for the canoe, didn’t you?” He grabs the officer by the hand and drags him into the brush and quickly drops to the sand, stomach down, grunting deep in his throat as he jostles his shoulder.

A beam of light quickly scans the area, Gavin’s eyes closed, breath stopped. “Whatever, just go!” The boats speed off towards the opposite shore and it’s as if every tension in his body left with them.

“You’re a bloody headache, you know that? Anderson?” Carefully, Gavin rolls himself over and returns to putting pressure on his wound, groaning, tongue wetting his lips, followed by an annoyed spitting in an attempt to get out the sand and then a more pronounced spit and _ta-da._ “Hey, at least you’re here to hear all about my cunning genius.” Vision swims as his stares at the stars above him. “I swear I can feel my heartbeat in this, Andy. The bullet wound. You wanna feel?” He turns his head towards the unconscious body, a smile on his face. “Ignoring me is just plain rude etiquette.” He returns back to the night sky, gaze barely able to focus on the individual stars. Last time he saw the sky, the sun was setting.

Logic tells him he should stand up, try and find someone, but he’s exhausted and drained of the last ounce of spontaneous energy his body had left. Though, on the other hand, 2+2- gunfire on the bridge, gunfire on the beach- Gavin isn’t thick. He knows his crew is coming for him. “My crew cares for me way more than yours care for you.” A shoe hits the leg of the other, limply shaking it. “Right, right, uh- I was saying- but to start from the beginning, before you ever got involved, before the job went tits up-”

* * *

“Right, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Alarms are blaring as Gavin’s typing increases to a frantic amount, eyebrows furrowed, leg bouncing as his eyes scan the text. “Well, too fucking bad, because it’s happened! So, hurry up!” The hacker doesn’t seemingly react to the yelling, just leaning more into the screen as he gets more furious with his task, not bothering to look down at his fingers as they fly across the keyboard. “How long do you need?”

“More time than this.”

“Fuck, okay, then let’s just get the hell out. You get the essentials, forget the extra-”

“No, Michael, I can do it!” It’s said with a growl, eyes flicking over to the other. “I just need a little more time, okay? Please?” Even though there’s the added ‘please’, Michael can tell that no matter what, he’s staying until he’s accomplished his task.

“Guys, what the hell is going on?” Gavin gives a pleading look towards Michael as their boss’ voice rings over the earpieces. “The alarm’s already going off! Why the fuck is the alarm already going off?”

Gavin hears a grumble escape Michael, time pausing slightly as he makes his decision. “Fine, I’ll hold them off downstairs when they get here.” Michael takes a few steps towards the stairs, falters. “Stay safe, Gav.” A smile lifts the corners of his mouth, typing slowing down for a second as the two share eye contact.

“You, too, boi.”

“Nothing to worry about, Geoff. We have it handled. Over.”

* * *

“Then when gunfire started much like the gunfire we heard- I guess Michael couldn’t hold them off. We did _not_ have it handled. Don’t blame him. They were everywhere.” A grimace strains his expression. “You really botched this up for me, Andy. Maybe not you specifically but you’re the only one here for me to channel my frustration towards. I’m sure you understand-” an explosion, most likely caused by a rocket launcher, caused Gavin’s grimace to turn into a grin, “-bloody hell, did you see that? That’s a downed chopper if I’ve ever seen one. As I was saying, the gunfire amped up-”

* * *

“You’re going to have to get out soon! They’re starting to surround us!” All Gavin has left to do is download everything onto the flashdrive and he’s incredibly impatient. Squinted eyes stare at the progress bar: 96%.

“I’m almost there! Just a little bit longer!”

The entire building rumbles with the fierceness of an explosion. “No, Gav, now! I’m on my last clip of ammo! The rest is back in the car which, if you hadn’t noticed, isn’t fucking near us!” Gavin doesn’t reply, anxiously staring at the progress bar as it ticked on to 97%. “Gavin!”

“Yeah, yeah! No, I’m with you!”

“So, get your ass down here! Let’s leave! I’ll contact Geoff to pick us in in a nearby alley and we’ll get the fuck out! Now!” The progress bar moves to 98% and the piercing sirens and alarms do nothing to ease the tenseness in his shoulders. He refuses to have come this far just to leave without everything.

“You go! I’ll catch up!”

“I want to say no, because that’s a stupid fucking plan, but guess fucking what, man! We have no choice, so here goes fucking nothing! Meet me at the north side of the bridge, okay?” Gavin leaned over in his chair to try and look down the stairs, attempting to catch a glance of his crewmate, but all he caught was the sound of gunfire. Eyes went back to the screen. 99%. He readied the pistol in his hands, hardening his gaze. Now that Michael was no longer covering the building, how long until they broke in?

* * *

“It felt like bloody hours, I’ll tell you that much, but it did reach 100% right as some prick bolted up the stairs. I shot at him and made my out through a fire escape. The bridge wasn’t too far away and I was able to stay pretty hidden through back alleys and all that, but when I reached the bridge- apparently Michael wracked up some attention there. I was spotted and even though I had my eyes on him and he was frustratingly, bloody close, I had to keep running unless I wanted a bullet in me. Funny how that turned out.” He dryly swallows with a humorless laugh, sparing a glance towards the opposite beach. The gunfire has died down considerably. He’s not worried at all about who came out on the winning side. His hand readjusts on top of the wound, inhaling through clenched teeth. “So, I had to make a decision.”

* * *

He’s surrounded. Adam’s apple bops in his throat, flash drive clasped protectively in his hand, gun tightly held in the other. There are seven cars, an uncountable amount of officers, and helicopter all trained on him. He shuffles back nervously, heart leaping into his throat when his back touches the edge of the bridge. “Sir, drop the weapon and put your hands up!” He drowns out the voice as he thinks. Either he could comply, get arrested, have a chance at breaking out, though no promise that it would be quick, or he could try and fight his way out with his singular pistol- that idea is immediately scrapped-, or he could jump off the bridge. “Sir!”

Gavin snaps his attention back to reality and slowly puts the gun to the ground, dropping his head as he subtly sneaks the flash drive into his mouth. A deep breath, a slow stand upright, a charming smile, and then suddenly he vaults over the railing and gunfire sprays from behind him.

* * *

“See? That was my cunning genius! The flash drive bit! Putting it into my mouth? If I had kept it in my hand, that little bugger would’ve been incredibly waterboarded. Maybe unsalvageable, making the whole thing pointless!” In hindsight, yes, it’s common sense to hide the technology from water, but in the moment, with dozens of guns pointed at him, he’s proud of himself for such quick thinking. “I’m only telling you, because I bet my crew won’t get it. I mean, they’ll get it, but-”

“Gavin!”

“Speaking of- over here!” Hand belonging to injured shoulder twirls the flash drive as he waits, watching two silhouettes come into view. “Geoff! Jack! Just the people I was hoping to see! Bloody hell, you wouldn’t _believe_ the night I’ve had.”

The two take in the scene for a moment. “I think I can guess. C’mon, kid. Let’s get you patched up.” Geoff extends a hand and Gavin gladly takes it, stumbling into his hold.

“They got you good, Gav.” Jack mumbles as she takes the other side, eyes inspecting the wound as best as she can through the tear in his clothes.

“I got the flash drive, though. Kept it safe. And you’re going to love what I found. Obviously I haven’t-” voice falters as breath sharply draws in through gritted teeth, a faded ring of black threatening the corners of his vision.

“Slow down, kid. You can tell us all about it when we get back to the penthouse, alright?”

Gavin gives a huff and a nod, letting his head fall on Geoff’s shoulder. “At least _Andy_ never shushed me.” Jack and Geoff spare each other a look over their Golden Boy’s head, Jack mouthing ‘Andy?’ in confusion in which Geoff responds with a confused expression, though they’re sure that they’ll hear the full story soon enough. They always do.

**Author's Note:**

> firstly: next fic will DEF have more chars. i just wanted to ease back into the rt/ah fanfic jam & the last time i was writing, jeremy wasn't even around + i feel rusty w ray characterization even more than the others.
> 
> secondly: AYO. this is my first finished writing in.. SO, SO long. constructive criticism is very much appreciated! on writing, characterizations, etc.
> 
> thirdly: hmu on tumblr @ guvino. i'll gladly take prompts tbh (no promise i'll get there quickly)


End file.
